


love is a gemstone set in our hearts

by imaginedandreal



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst With A Happy End, F/M, seriously guys the road to the HEA is paved with angst galore, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-03 17:04:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14573544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedandreal/pseuds/imaginedandreal
Summary: Sequel to and set after Certain loves go on great journeys. Tessa is in Paris, trying to focus on her jewelry business venture. Ghosts of what happened between her and Scott give her trouble. She is clinging to optimism that comes from her new life, but she misses the man who knows and yet does not fully know that she loves him.





	1. don’t cry garnet tears of blood, my heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel fic to that angsty mess "Certain loves", as indicated in the summary. THIS mess is just as angsty, but bear with me. It ends happily.  
> I have a ton of ideas for cute lovey-dovey fluff bouncing in my mind, but, at this time, my heart desireth A-N-G-S-T. So I hope this is enjoyable for everyone who cares to read :)
> 
>  
> 
> OH WAIT I ALMOST FORGOT. Minor trigger warning for allusions to miscarriage. Be advised, if you are sensitive to such stuff.

Paris, 2019

The doors of Bijouterie Virtue in Paris would open as scheduled, in the fall of 2019.

It was late September, but the trees lining the streets already had streaks of gold and rusty red through their branches. The days were temperate, with occasional smatterings of surprisingly cold rain that made the cobblestoned pavements look like the wet skin of a giant reptile.

One particular afternoon, though, turned out mild and sunny. In a café on the street corner off the Champs-Élysées sat a slim young woman, leafing through some sketches in her folder. The light breeze toyed with her dark brown hair and spread it out in soft waves around her shoulders. One of her hands, the one that was not occupied with turning over the sheets of paper, stirred a long-gone-cold cup of black coffee. She wasn’t even sure why she was drinking black coffee. She would have gone to the nearest Starbucks for an almond milk cappuccino, only she didn’t want to be that American…correction, that  _ North _ American person going to a Starbucks in a European city. That would be cliché, and cliché was something she wouldn’t be in a million years. 

As if your whole current stupid situation isn’t clichéd, her mind scoffed in derision. Sitting in a café in goddamn Paris, like it wasn’t you who ran away from the problems at home. Like it wasn’t you escaping Scott and his feelings, the ones that felt too much like your own and threw you into such turmoil.  

She snapped the folder shut, so hard that her coffee spoon clinked against the porcelain rim of the saucer. Some elegant-looking elderly “madame” a table away bestowed a perfectly disdainful look on such a blatant display of emotion. Yet, she didn’t care.

No, she had not  _ escaped  _ his feelings, and she did not run away. She knew, now more than ever, that she loved him, and that leaving felt like it ripped her heart in two raw, bleeding halves. Well – it would have demolished that stupid, useless organ by a thousand cuts if she continued to stew in the searing pain of the aftermath of…of…she could not bring herself to say  _ the m-word _ , not even in her head. So simple and so harrowing a term. But she had experienced that. It had not been a nightmare, no matter how she wished it had been. She had let her fear, her stupid,  _ idiotic  _ fear of ‘but what if he’s pretending to love me?’ shatter her one chance at happiness.

Some people raged, threw things at walls, broke dishes, shaved their heads, and keyed cars when such awful things happened to them. They took out their poisonous emotions onto the hapless outside world. She herself had opted for a more civil and harmless turning of the page. But really, when was she not calm and thinking every word, every  _ breath _ through one hundred times, before acting?

And somehow, she still lived through such pain and madness to show (whom?) that she was strong enough to move across the ocean; and prove (to whom???) that she could be successful and resilient even in the wake of personal tragedies. The whole last summer, once she settled into Parisian life, she had worked her ass off. More like a madwoman, not a businesswoman. Her perfectionism and ingrained determination barely allowed her a minute to think about every dangerous subject, and she preferred it that way.

There. Business, she told herself firmly now. If you’d taken such effort to go all the way here, you might as well occupy yourself with the actual purpose of your being here. Think about good, optimistic things. How the eager customers will flock to your boutique, how the displays will shimmer with polished metals and precious stones. Think about the bracelets, necklaces, earrings, engagement rings, and wedding bands…

Here was the stupid train of thought derailing again!

She reopened the folder with no small amount of frustration. All she saw was lines and brightness, like it was a fancy adult version of a coloring book. Where  _ was _ Noelle? She needed conversation about work to deafen the hundred other, less joyful topics that her brain stubbornly dwelled on.

“Tessa?”

She snapped her head up from the sketches. An enthusiastically grinning blonde girl was hurrying over to her café, her kitten heels  _ tap-tap-tapping  _ with a loud echo. Tessa rose, reminding herself to tack on a suitably gracious and polite smile. The girl finally evened with her table and immediately went in for a hug of greeting.

“So lovely to finally meet you, Tessa.  _ Ça va _ ?” The two exchanged cheek kisses.

“I’m well, myself. Likewise, Noelle,” Tessa told her warmly, gesturing to the free chair across the small table, but Noelle was already settling in. Despite her effort to keep a nonchalant appearance, Tessa eyed her, taken by a bit of surprise. Noelle’s peppy demeanor was so unlike the generally cool French. And her English was practically perfect. As much as Tessa never stereotyped, she still expected to hear more accent.

“Listen, sorry about my lateness, the client I had before you…he was a real –” here she uttered something angry in French that Tessa didn’t catch. “Now, talking to  _ you  _ is what I’ve been looking forward to all day. Not every day does Tessa Virtue herself call me for assistance on a jewelry boutique!”

Tessa could only marvel at Noelle. In between firing off the explanation, her astonishingly energetic new acquaintance managed to flag down a waiter, order coffee and an éclair, and pull out detailed notes, which she promptly fanned out all over the tiny wicker table. Then, as if coming to her senses a bit, she laughed.

“People say I go too fast for them, so feel free to stop me if I get too chaotic.” Tessa had to laugh at such candor. She shook her head.

“No, it’s completely fine. But tell me – how is your English that good?”

She felt a little silly right away, suddenly blurting it out at a person that she barely met. But Noelle grinned, unfazed.

“Don’t tell me you were expecting me to stroll over here with a baguette under my arm and a beret on my head! And not  _ to speek ze Eengleesh _ ? But here I am, not as  _ française  _ as you imagined, huh? Having a dad from New York does that to a girl. Well, that and a Master’s in business admin from Georgetown,” she clarified, ending with a wink.

Tessa laughed again, feeling her gloomy mood lift. “I’m glad to meet another person who doesn’t scan me with their gaze and see a foreigner,” she admitted. “I mean, not that anyone is rude to me because of it, just…you know. I haven’t yet truly felt…”

“In your element?” Noelle suggested. Tessa saw that her eyes filled with good-natured understanding.

Tessa exhaled softly. “Right. But I do feel in my element when I talk about jewelry design,” she continued, relaxing into confidence and settling into a business mode all at once.

Noelle smiled. “May I?” She gestured to the folder with the sketches. Having gotten a nod, she opened it. Her face lit up nearly instantly.

“All of this is your design?”

Tessa blushed slightly. “I play around in my spare time, mostly. I never seriously considered going professional with this stuff, until…” she paused, as if hitting an invisible obstacle. Collected herself, grateful that Noelle was deep into the sketches. “Until coming here.”

“Damn. Talk about playing around. This will  _ sell,  _ and sell big time…” Noelle was grinning with rapture, gently tracing the outlines on the paper.

_ It will most likely only sell because I am the famous Tessa Virtue _ , Tessa herself mused grimly.

“You’ve got great potential sets here, and that engagement ring line is so beautiful!” 

Tessa’s heart was pricked with a needle at that, quick and stinging. She remembered how she, in a burst of euphoria, had drawn the rings after she and Scott found out that she was pregnant. She could hardly bear to look at those particular drawings after everything else that would happen later.

Unintentionally, Tessa strayed her gaze to across the street. She heard the peals of carefree laughter before she saw where they were coming from. An evidently just-married couple strolled arm in arm down the sidewalk. The groom was in a traditional black suit. The bride was in an ivory billow of a dress, which looked like it frothed exactly like the foam of her favorite almond milk cappuccino. A photographer lead them, walking backwards and snapping pictures continuously. And, from the distance, the groom’s unruly brown hair looked a little like…

“…also, I like that you want the store to be on the street corner, like you had said in one email. That makes for good accessibility, doesn’t it…Tessa? Is something wrong?”

She blinked. Oh right. Noelle. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit tired today. I’m not spacing out on purpose, I promise.”

Noelle’s expression said ‘You look more than just tired,’ but she tactfully turned the subject to the lease and the opening.

_ Focus. Focus. Focus. _

“You’ve got family and friends coming over from Canada, right?”

“Mostly family. Not that many people can show up, but that’s all right. I will give you the exact number shortly.” 

“Will your partner be there?” And, as if an afterthought, Noelle clarified, “Scott, right?”

_ It was only a question. The ground didn’t shake. The sky didn’t thunder. The sun didn’t explode. _

And yet, Tessa’s hands shook, and her heart thundered, and she tried her damnedest not to explode with tears, like a hurt child. Not hurt because Noelle didn’t seem to be an obsessed fan of them two. Only because the mere sound of his name crumbled her entire inner world. 

Noelle‘s face was a picture of remorse. “Oh. I...forgive me. I was just wondering - oh  _ shit,  _ Tessa, you all right? Here, hold on, drink some water…” 

Tessa accepted the bottle and sipped from it, carefully, as though fearing to spill it all over herself.  _ Noelle doesn’t know the details, nor does she have to. Keep it like that.  _ She breathed deeply, ignoring the prickling sting in her eyes. 

“No,” she told Noelle. The other girl was looking at her sympathetically. “No, I don’t think he can. He’s so busy. I’m so sorry, Noelle. I know I look out of it, but it’s nothing. Just recent stress.”  

She had already repeated the word ‘stress’ so often to different people, that it grew stale and bothersome inside her mouth, like chewed-up gum. 

Noelle nodded, and then swiftly touched Tessa’s hand. “I completely get it. Don’t worry about a thing. And actually? Why don’t we make another date? We did cover the most important things more or less. We can just tie it together next time.”

Tessa felt grateful and relieved for such a kind gesture. After all, Noelle was a busy woman for sure, and here she was being so accommodating. Though, Noelle herself was there ‘covering the important things’ and Tessa just felt like a dense student sitting before a competent teacher. So much for appearing savvy...

“Yes. I’d like that. Thank you, Noelle.”

Noelle waved at her cheerily. “It’s no trouble.”

“No, honestly. Thank you. I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can arrange everything.”

They parted almost like friends, and Tessa set out back home. It was her normal way of spending evenings, even after all this time in Paris. Her introverted nature protested against some raucous night out, or other possibility of too much human interaction. She didn’t think it was because she was cold or unwilling to make new acquaintances. It was simply not her thing. Not in her current situation. Tessa lived business now more than ever, and it trickled into her leisure time as well. 

She approached her apartment complex, on the other side of the city. The many dark windows stared back at her, like someone’s sad eyes. 

Once she was in her modest apartment, Tessa washed and changed without further ado, settling on the couch with a mug of herbal tea. She had believed it would help her sleep, but it was doing a poor job at that. Memories, meddling, maddening memories were crowding into her brain, with the persistency of annoying TV commercials that played over and over.

If only Noelle had not asked about Scott...

 

Her memory was swept back into last spring. Shortly before she took the leap.

_ It was Jordan, as always, dear Jordan, that listened to her tearful confessions. _

_ But her sister wasn’t just nodding and agreeing to everything. “Have you thought about it? Is it really something you want to do?” _

_ “Jordan, I can’t stay here. I can’t stay and think about…” Tessa’s breath hitched quietly, but she steadied herself. “I need to get a fresh start on all this shit.” _

_ “Then why Paris? Go right down to Antarctica while you’re at it!” her older sister scoffed. But her eyes softened when she met Tessa’s. _

_ “I might as well do something useful, if I will be away,” Tessa explained weakly. She looked away from Jordan’s scrutinizing eyes, as if sensing what the next question would be.  _

_ “Tess...do you even think about what this will do to Scott?” _

_ There was Scott’s turn to be argued about. Subtle as always, Jo.  _

_ “He is letting me go. I asked him to do that for me. I’m not leaving him for good.” _

_ Jordan’s look screamed  _ Are you kidding _?! “He will beat himself up, blame himself for everything. Believe me, you’re not the only one who knows his behavior well by now.” _

_ “Blame himself for what?” Tessa was getting a headache. Why did  _ everyone _ start dissuading her, like she was a teenager who had no clue what she was doing? “For what, Jordan? My own stupid fear and hesitation to tell him that I _ love him _ like I have never loved in my life? Or will he blame himself that I…” She felt the tears coming, and couldn’t stop them. “That my body...killed our…” _

_ Then, Jordan hugged her, and comforted her as only an older, wiser sister can do to a younger one. And God, was Tessa ever grateful to every higher power that she had such a Jordan. Such a sister that, for all her outspoken tough-love manner, knew when to just listen.  _

_ “I can’t believe it.” Tessa, by now calmed down, laughed humorlessly. “I love Scott, and I’m too much of a mess to tell him. Had to tell you first.” _

_ “You guys were always non-traditional in how you tackled your relationship.” Jordan’s tease was gentle. And, she was right.  _

_ Scott, her Scott, how he was always tuned into her emotions. Tessa was slightly intimidated, at times, by his sensitivity, and by how he was able to detect what she felt. Even before all this horror, she knew (and he told her, too) that she was denying the obvious to herself. Love was there, in plain view, on the front shelf inside her heart, and Scott had to walk her to it and point at it, and still she would not admit that it was there. Always patiently, always caringly, but firmly, he was coaxing her to admit it. It seemed like he had learned more from their marriage counseling in the past than even she did. _

_ Messed up, just like she told Jordan, she thought miserably. I messed up and I hardly know how to fix it. _

 

Tessa shook herself out of it. She rose from the couch and walked up to her open window. Soon, the ever-colder wind won’t let her air out the apartment anymore. For a minute or two, she simply stood there, inhaling the night, and exhaling like she wanted to breathe out the pain and sadness that soaked her through.

Her breath had no one else’s to synchronize with. Nor could her heartbeat be soothed by a strong rhythm out of another chest. The chest that she so loved being held against and resting her head onto. 

It was useless. She could not think about anything else, because every other train of thought inevitably pulled up at a station called Scott.

A stronger gust of air made Tessa shiver, and she shut the window. Cold. She had been cold for so long, and she wished that she could say it was only from the weather. 

 

She slept fitfully. When Scott appeared in her dream, she was overjoyed, at first. But he walked over to her and held out a handful of garnets. The stones sparkled like frozen blood.

“Remember me in Paris, Tess,” he said. She just looked at him. “I love you, so don’t forget me. I would die for you. I would spill blood for you. Do you believe me?”

Hardly did she get ready to answer, the stones in her hand turned to liquid. It dripped down and pooled at her feet. Her eyes couldn’t tear away from the dark crimson puddle. It looked like...it reminded her of...no, not another one! 

“Scott!” she cried desperately. 

He was gone. Only her words echoed around her, as the blood dripped from her fingertips.

She burst out with sobs that racked her body, as if it was the last green tree assaulted by a storm on the brink of winter.

Winter wasn’t coming. Winter was already there, imprisoning her forever.

 

She jolted awake, panting, half-tangled into her blanket. 

Her dark apartment. A faraway police siren outside. Her clock, ticking monotonously.

“ _ Do you believe me? _ ” ringing in her ears, almost like an accusation. 

Jordan had been right, after all: she could run wherever she wanted, but she could not hide. Not from herself.

This nightmare was a sporadic invader of her brain, recurring every two weeks or so. Tessa did  _ not  _ want to see Scott bleed for her; she would rather bleed herself, as traumatizing as it was. And yet, she  _ had _ bled in reality, last spring. Her body had expelled the result of her and Scott’s unbridled passion, which she allowed herself to feel after their Korean triumph. 

She was only vaguely aware that silent, helpless tears were soaking her pillowcase. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped, uselessly, for Scott to materialize again, next to her, and give her hugs and kisses of comfort and love, instead of blood-colored garnets.

_ I believe you.  _

_ Scott, HOW I believe you!!! her heart cried wordlessly. YOU are the blood in my veins.  _

Exhaustion took pity on her. She slept, at last as peacefully as she hoped. The day would be more forgiving to her tormented mind. 


	2. amethysts are made of red love and blue loneliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what this chapter is, tbh :D I hope you like it, regardless. Seeing as yesterday was Mother’s Day, there’s a bit of mother-daughter time here, and I’m trying to dial down the angst now.

The next week or so, Tessa was determined to push any sad and depressing thought away. 

_ I am here to work on business. _

_ I’m a pretty good jewelry designer, and, with luck, my venture will flourish. _

_ I like my new life. I am good right here. _

That second-to-last idea, though, jarred her a bit, like new unfamiliar notes in a song from the past.

New life? It was a good one, for sure, but to call it  _ her new life  _ brought intimidating meaning to the concept.

Her life had been Canada, her skating coaching and public events. Her life had been drink dates with Jordan and Kaitlyn Weaver, and long heart-to-heart talks with her mom in her old childhood home. 

Her life had been Scott. Faithful, caring, funny, wonderful, beloved Scott.

There had been their nameless future-with-no-future baby, whose existence flashed on their orbits with the speed of a comet, bright and mercilessly short. 

This thing in Paris? Paris was, right now, a dress-up game, a theater play, some sort of wait in an airport lounge before the journey back home.

Yes, she had left  _ home  _ because it became cold and dark and unbearable. And still, how she longed to come back already. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to abandon her boutique scheme altogether. And yet...she wished that this new life wasn’t some kind of distraction anymore. 

She was simply staring back at her old live through the veneer of the new one.

And she didn’t really like, nor want, that.

 

She did what any self-possessed, mature, strong and independent woman would do, in the midst of loneliness one night. She called her mother. 

“Mom…” she spoke, tentatively, the minute the other end picked up.

“Tessie? What’s going on, sweetie? Is everything all right?”

_ Mom.  _ Hearing her dear voice made Tessa’s eyelids sting with tears.  _ Oh, Mommy. _

“No, Mom, I’m fine.” She paused. Covered her phone with her hand so Kate wouldn’t hear how shaky of a breath she took in. “Just wanted to...to talk to you.”

“Oh, honey…” her mother was clearly not fooled. “Please - I’m here for you. Although....wait. Isn’t it about two a.m. over in Paris?”

Tessa allowed herself to sigh this time. “Two forty-five.”

“Tessa. I would talk to you without hesitating at any time of day and night, of course, but you should try to sleep at such an hour. Do you still have trouble sleeping?” Kate’s words were gentle, but their meaning was concerned. 

“I don’t know.” Tessa did not want to answer something as trivial as confessing that indeed, she has been sleeping badly for weeks. Well, she settled on a trivial phrase anyway. “I don’t know why I’m here. And the worst thing is, I feel like a kid, who’s picky and choosy about a toy. Paris-Canada, Paris-Canada...which one should I choose, in the end? What am I even doing? Tell me I’m doing everything right.”

“You are doing everything right,” Kate intoned soothingly.

“But what  _ am  _ I doing?!” Tessa put all her pent-up frustration and loneliness into the sentence. All of a sudden, she despised everything - her sketches, strewn all over the table next to her bed, the night, the sounds of the city at this point in the night, and Paris itself. 

Stupid idea. Crazy, wholly unnecessary idea, this goddamn boutique. 

“Nevermind, Mom. I will figure myself out. I’m a big girl now, as you always liked to say. And you didn’t raise a quitter, did you? Neither of us four.”

There was humor now in her mother’s voice. “You’re right. All four of my children are wonderful, successful people. But even now, you still remain my sweetest, littlest girl, Tessie. Always.”

Tessa had to smile. “Anyway, how was it home recently?”

“Oh, Alma dropped by the other day. Asked how you were.”

Tessa’s good mood vanished, like a blown-out candle. Another dull wave of ache settled in her stomach.  _ Alma… _

“She must...she must be angry at me. Really angry.”

“Angry? She is nothing of the sort. Why would she be?”

“Mom, I  _ abandoned _ Scott!” The name tasted thick and bitter on her tongue, but Tessa pushed on. “I didn’t want for it to be like that, but who’s to say that it didn’t  _ look  _ like that to his family? It was...his child too, after all. And I escaped across the world to lick my wounds, and left him to deal with that all alone.”

Kate was patiently silent, waiting for her outburst to end. “Tessa...you know it was not like that. If you had taken off the day after, perhaps. But you worked through it together, for months.”

Tessa fiddled with her packet of sleeping aid pills.“And we failed at that.”

“You did not fail. You just needed...alternative ways of processing it. That’s normal.”

“I can’t even imagine what has been going on in Scott’s mind,” Tessa confessed, misery closing up on her. Her cozy room suddenly felt windowless. Suffocating. She recalled the conversation with Jordan, and how her older sister had asked her  _ “Can you imagine what this would do to Scott?” _

“Now, Tessie. You know Scott, of all people,would never blame you or make you feel guilty. For anything.”

_ God, why did she even start the subject of Alma and Scott and everything else?! _

“I called him on his birthday. The 2nd, you know?”

She approached the window and pulled it open, not caring that the wind might be cold. She directed her face at it, as if punishing herself by letting the autumn breeze chill her cheeks.

“And I just...didn’t even know what to say to him. Of course, I wished him a happy birthday and everything, but then...I talked about a bunch of crap, about how my boutique preparation was going. Can you imagine? I didn’t know what to talk about with Scott! Nonsense!” Tessa burst out, on a rush of miserable sarcasm. “My partner, twenty-one years and counting! My best friend! The man…”

“...you love,” her mother supplied.

“Exactly. Exactly, Mom. The man I love. He deserved for me to be there near him, on such a day, not to give him wishes over the phone, as if I wanted to mock him. And he was so kind, so  _ loving  _ and supportive. It just made me feel worse. I almost wished he would have shouted and hung up on me. Would have hurt less.” 

Shit. She has made herself cry now, what she was desperately avoiding her mother to hear. “I don’t deserve such a man,” she whispered.

“Tessa, Tessa. Don’t torture yourself like that. Of course you deserve him. I know Scott almost like my own sons, and he’s not the one to judge. Especially you. His world begins and ends with you, my daughter. He knows how to wait, and wait he will for you. Trust me.”

“I miss everyone. I miss him. I miss you too, you know.”

“I’m coming over for the launch, of course. I wouldn’t dream to miss it.”

Tessa breathed deeply, mostly to steady herself. The air from the window cooled the tears on her face. “I invited Scott, back when I was just starting the whole set-up. Just told him to come, if he could, if he wanted to - as if it was as easy as coming over for a coffee. I felt so stupid. And he said he couldn’t. Apologized. He apologized to _ me! _ ”

“Don’t wind yourself up.” Kate’s voice grew firmer. “He can’t come, but it doesn’t mean he’s doing it specifically to punish you. It doesn’t mean anything but that it’s not exactly easy for him to show up.”

“And I call him so rarely. But what can I say now? ‘Hi Scott, today I sketched a diamond necklace, tomorrow I’ll sketch an emerald pendant,’ ‘Hi there, Scott, I promise, I’m not having too much fun here. I’m sitting around moping when I’m not busy with the boutique so don’t worry about me moving on without you.’” Tessa’s voice grew dejected the more she listed the ironic conversation topics.

A small sigh from Kate. “Tessa, sweetheart...no matter what would happen between you and Scott, no matter how difficult it would be to get back together, I know you can do it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tessa yawned; not out of boredom, but because she abruptly perceived that talking with her mother worked better than sleeping aid. “I know the drill. Certain loves never end…”

“...They go on great journeys and then return.”

“How do  _ you  _ know that?”

“I listened to some interesting European music in the 70’s. Including Venditti.”

Tessa closed the window, resolute to settle down and sleep. Her blanket and pillow looked extremely cozy and inviting now. She burrowed under the covers, phone at her ear.

“Now, on this philosophical note, I have to go. It’s late - or I guess, early. And I have to wake up soon.”

Kate changed from gentle comfort to motherly seriousness. “How early is it?”

“It’s after three.”

“How much after three?”

Tessa rolled her eyes, even through sleepiness. “Okay, so it’s three fifty.”

A gasp. “Tessa Jane! Go to sleep, right this second!”

“My goodness, Mom! Stop making me feel like a teenager out after curfew!”

Her mother’s voice returned its affectionate tones. “Keep it up, and you will be grounded, young lady. No worries, I’m just joking, sweetie. You have a good sleep, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, Momma.”

Click, and the phone was off and charging on the bedside table.

Its owner slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.

 

Tessa was truly grateful for the launch to Noelle, whose help significantly hurried up the process. The girl turned out to have a serious entrepreneurial streak, quickly giving both Tessa and the other various workers invaluable advice: how to organize the interior and exterior of the shop, how to format the jewelry displays, and whom to invite to the opening night itself - right down to the food and champagne. She invited several of her colleagues who were in charge of the PR and HR aspects of the opening. 

The HR director, Christophe Martial, showed up at Noelle’s invitation to meet Tessa two days before the opening. At first glance, Tessa was dismayed to find out that the professional and (she grudgingly admitted) street-smart middle aged gentleman also had a giant weakness. This weakness was the female gender.

“Christophe, this is the famous Tessa Virtue, the mind and talent behind all this. I ask you to respect and help her out in everything,” Noelle said, as the two shook hands.

Oh, Christophe looked prepared to _respect_ and _help_ _Tessa_ _out_ immediately, right this second! Especially with the all but predatory smile which reached his unprofessionally twinkling eyes. He kissed her hand instead of shaking, and seemed oblivious to how Tessa, just barely able to hide a grimace of disgust, pulled the unwantedly kissed hand away.

“A pleasure, Ms. Virtue,” he told her, still smirking, like a fat cat in front of a dish of fish. “A  _ great  _ pleasure to meet you.” He certainly was not shy to let his eyes wander all over her figure. Tessa wished right away that she was wearing a less formfitting pantsuit. She shivered in distaste. Christophe seemed to try his best to put the most lecherous notes into the word ‘pleasure.’ Next to them, Noelle did roll her eyes, and busied herself with her phone. And his accent grated worse than a knife on glass. She was never a xenophobe, but his stupid affectation of a British dandy!  _ Mon Dieu,  _ indeed.

“Just Tessa,  _ please. _ ” But then, she regretted correcting the womanizer; she didn’t want him to think that he was privileged just because she allowed him to call her by first name.

Bull’s eye, it turned out. “Then you must call me Christophe.” More eye twinkling...was that a wink?!

Tessa crossed her arms on her chest. “Oh, must I?” She stripped her voice of any warmth and casual friendliness. She heard Noelle’s quiet snort of approval.

_ Help me, you fool! _

Noelle got what Tessa was urgently trying to communicate with her eyes and hurried to the rescue. “So, everyone’s introduced! Great, wonderful! I’m sure we all will work well together,” she exclaimed in a mix of fake-cheery English-French. “Now, I imagine you, Christophe, have that meeting with Crédit Agricole in thirty minutes?”

Tessa gave Christophe a smile of farewell, but the man clearly had other intentions. “I actually had to postpone it yesterday to a later date. Why don’t I offer you ladies an early dinner instead?” 

Tessa suppressed an urge to cringe hard at his seductive (as he must have thought) low voice. “Some other time,  _ Monsieur  _ Martial,” she told him firmly, not giving Noelle an opportunity to speak first. And she used his last name on purpose.

“Right,” Noelle agreed, her tone nonchalant. “Another time.”

Christophe had no other choice but to smile predatorily one last time, and exit the shop. But his whole demeanor said ‘I don’t give up easily.’

Tessa turned to a snickering Noelle the minute Christophe’s car pulled away. “So, my new friend and business advisor wants me to work with this...individual? Noelle, what kind of employees will he help me hire? Supermodels with legs down from their ears? Honestly - ‘hee-hee, ha-ha, dinner with the ladies,’ my ass.”

Noelle gave her an apologetic smile. “That’s Christophe for you, I’m afraid. Don’t worry, though, just ignore it. He might be a womanizer, but he’s pretty good where HR is concerned. I mean, I’m sorry you have to deal with that, but he won’t even be here that often anyway.”

“So it means I just have to tell him ‘next time’ every time he invites me to dinner. Fun.” Tessa laughed, because honestly, she only saw the man’s attempts at pick-up humorous, at best. “God, I can’t believe women go for men like him.”

“He’s on his third wife. Younger, of course.” Noelle busied herself with the earring display. “Changes personal assistants every other month. And they’re also young and could do the catwalk.”

Tessa came over and started sorting the rings on the next tray. “Somehow, none of this surprises me.” She took a fancy amethyst ring to give it a quick polish.

“Though he gets discouraged faster when he hears that the object of his...khm...interest isn’t single. You should invent a boyfriend and parade him in front of our Casanova. Or do you have a real one?” Tessa realized Noelle was looking at her slyly.

The amethyst ring clinked against the glass of the counter, and rolled to the floor. Tessa ducked under, grateful that Noelle didn’t catch how much she flustered her with talk of boyfriends. 

“No. There’s no one.”

Noelle rolled her eyes. “Look at you. ‘No, there’s no one!’” she mimicked in a high-pitched tone. “Haven’t you looked in the mirror recently? There should be crowds of guys drooling after you!  _ Crowds _ , Tessa! I can’t believe a successful and frankly, gorgeous woman like you has poor luck in personal life.”   
Tessa continued to polish the rings with double the energy. “If all those crowds will look like Monsieur Christophe Martial, then no thanks. I’d faster drown myself in the Seine. Noelle, what are we even talking about? I didn’t come here to chase after French, Canadian, or any other men. I came here for business.”

Noelle flinched at her blunt tone, but shrugged it off. “Okay, then. I’m sorry if I upset you,” she offered, more gently. “Was there someone...back in Canada?”

“Not  _ was.  _ He’s still back there. But I didn’t leave him or cheat on him, or anything like that. It’s just...look, it’s a long and complicated story. It’s part of why I’m here - what happened between us. Nothing concerning our romantic relationship, but...something bad happened to us. Very bad. And I kind of...panicked, I guess. I needed to be somewhere where every corner of every place wouldn’t remind me of what...of what he and I went through.”

Tessa stared out of the window, ring in one hand, polishing cloth in the other. She barely heard herself spilling out the confession. Noelle simply listened, nodding sympathetically.

“Anyway, like I said, I needed time and space to figure everything out. And I have it now. But that doesn’t mean I’m overjoyed. I’m not even sure what I feel and think most of the time, you see?”

Noelle looked at her, then suddenly reiterated, “So this man...he won’t be coming for opening night..?”

Tessa swore softly. Tossed the polishing cloth right onto the ring tray. “No. He will not. And, in case you forgot, you already asked me that, back when we first met. Please, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” And fell silent, realizing that she gave herself away. 

“It’s Scott. Scott Moir…” whispered Noelle. Her eyes were wide and stunned. 

“Yes. It’s Scott. He is the one I love and the one who loves me. And the one who’s an ocean away from me. And I have no idea what’s going on with us. Sorry. I’m totally done talking now.” Tessa closed her eyes and stepped away, as if to prove that she wasn’t about to reveal more complicated secrets.

“It’s okay. Let it be. I understand you, and I promise I won’t pry. Hold on - who’s  _ that _ ?”

Noelle, who had gone to turn over the sign on the door that said  _ OUVERT _ , gestured to the man across the street. He was hurrying straight to the boutique, a wide smile on his face.

Tessa stared, as Noelle let him through the door. What brought  _ him _ here?

He walked in, breathing a bit fast from his run. Strode over to the counter, behind which Tessa still stood, completely bewildered.

“Hi, Tess,” said he. 

Tessa could only look at him in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think is the “he” that visited our Tess? ;)
> 
> Comments are welcome, encouraged, and make me happy <3

**Author's Note:**

> Good? Bad? A bunch of melodramatic bs?  
> Tell me in the comments, I love feedback <3


End file.
